A Night at the Opera


Once upon a time there was a girl who although she’d had her fair share of heartbreaks still believed that there was a Prince Charming waiting for her somewhere…

A few months after a break up that left me totally shattered I was convinced I would never meet a guy who would excite me quite as much as my ex did, especially not in the tiny little Italian town I was living in.  That was until I met a tall, dark, handsome French opera singer.

I can’t quite remember how we were introduced but I ended up being captivated by this guy and the way he talked about literature and music.  I am an absolute sap for this sort of thing I must admit.

Anyway, we exchanged numbers and agreed to meet up to play music together.  However, after two weeks I had given up hope that he’d text.

Then one Saturday, completely out of the blue, I got a message from him asking if I’d like to go bowling with him and his friends.  I agreed.  Then he asked if I would consider meeting him for a drink beforehand, just the two of us.  How could I refuse?

After 3 hours of chatting about books, opera, music, food, wine and everything else that’s a little too high brow for a drink in the local pub on a Saturday night, we made our way to the bowling to meet his friends.  Although, when we arrived his friends weren’t there and never turned up.

So the opera singer and I decided to stay for a game anyway.  I shamelessly played the helpless damsel in distress who needed help with her shots and just as I’d hoped, he came to the rescue.

Afterwards, we walked arm in arm down the quiet street back to the centre of the little mediterranean town, under his huge umbrella in the pouring rain whilst he sang his favourite opera songs.  I shit you not.

Once we reached my rusty bicycle – no fairytale noble steed for me – he kissed me goodbye for what felt like hours.

Unfortunately, the villain in this tale was Mother Nature and I had no choice but to end the night there and then.  I claimed I had to be up early the next morning despite his pleadings for me to join him for a glass of wine.  There are no words to describe how gutted I was I had to end the night there.

Anyway, the story is to be continued……

By Darcy Greene

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